POEM:

Arise and claim your throne

You, a queen that has fallen

The one with the buried kingdom and forgotten the throne

You, who surrendered her strength to the struggle

The pain cut off your wings

You could not fly

You stayed on the ground

Let go of the passion you possessed

Buried the dreams and wishes.

Arise and chase dreams

You, the dreamer who gave in

To the pressure of planet earth

Spiraling you to a life of no hope

The heat convinced you that you didn’t belong

That you were nothing but basic

So you curved in

Just to fit in.

Arise and love again

You, whose heart has been shattered

Mishandled by those you gave yourself to

The one’s who could not love your heart

The soul you poured out

Into a bottomless cup

So you took back your care

Stone cold

You locked away your heart.

POEM By : Nonsikelelo Moyo

Social media: Facebook

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I manifested all the great things I yearned for before this year began. The peace, the love, the abundance, the courage, the aura….. Literally anything you may think of when you picture in your mind when it comes to the wishes of the lady in her late 20s. Guess what?. . . Instead of turning the tables, they turned me. The late-night cries exceeded, and sometimes I failed to get some sleep. Appearing joyful while my heart bled within felt like unwavering hypocrisy. Thinking about the beautiful life I craved in comparison to the nightmare I struggle in, broke my hope into tiny pieces that are difficult to fix.

Some days felt so heavy, and moments lasted longer than they should have. I was completely shattered,left in deep thought, like… “Where did I do wrong?!, Am I really a good person?, Why does almost everyone seem to be so disappointing?” I fumbled. As people celebrated the new year season, I was busy fixing and picking up the leftovers from the previous one.

The emotional roller-coaster continued until one day I received shocking news that even my closest friend could not handle with a positive attitude. Some of them cried out of pity, while others were caught in the moment of silence.

I went numb, completely not knowing how to feel at the moment. The series of storms left me overwhelmed, with no strength to carry another burden. As I was stuck, I looked around to see everyone’s reaction, and, in surprise, I was the only one calm and unbothered at the moment. Suddenly, I gained insight into one of the greatest lessons of my life, one I had always heard but had never experienced firsthand, to make it real. That lesson was “We are who we are because of other people’s eyes. Our beliefs and attitudes are shaped by how other people perceive us, not by what we ought to be good for ourselves. The way we dress, behave, communicate, love, feel and express ourselves relies mostly to the expectations of other people and not our own preference”

For the first time, I felt free from other people’s expectations. Being hurt and calm left them no room to judge me for how I feel or how I react. Just because they could also feel the pain, it did not give them the power to weigh me down. Such an emotional regulation moment was everything I had hoped for, and I even remembered all the manifestations I had made before.

I speak with courage and confidence to whoever is reading this by letting you know that “Our brains are wired with extraordinary power. The key to using that power fully lies in understanding that the brain cannot distinguish between reality and imagination — it responds to whatever it is fed.” Always imagine the best from every scenario, expect good news, embrace every moment with gratitude, and see how tables turn around without moving your chair. It is true that you cannot think your way out of a certain feeling, because even heaven cries. You can feel the way you want by changing your thinking, since happiness is a state of mind.

I hope you found this insightful. I wish you all the best in your journey of discovery.

Written by: Dativa Mugashe

Social media:

Instagram: real_datty

Instagram

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In a world where we don’t know what’s true and what’s not, how do you expect my heart to trust what my eyes see or read? How do you even trust that I, alone, wrote this piece on my own? If artificial intelligence can do it, why should we bother to do it? What’s the worth in that? Since I was a kid, I knew I wanted to be a writer in addition to healthcare. But now, that skill/talent is no longer recognized – it has lost its value and we have lost the essence of authenticity.

If you can look into a screen and not recognize the difference between artificial and real. What is even the definition of real nowadays? Or do we only know the meaning of reel now? We are living in the beginning of the end times. The chaos and confusion are not by chance or are we even aware of the real world anymore?

We wake up with our smartphones glued on our faces and before we sleep, if at all, they are the last thing we see. What do we call that Hypnosis or addiction? We live in a world governed by confusion and I am fearful of what we will all become. I never thought I would be so grateful that we are mortal beings because the future is doomed, if it will even exist at all. Tell me…
What’s next?

By: Mutshidzi

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My Dearest Scars

You were an uninvited guest,
but you made a home in my skin.
A silent story of a battle that found me.

First, you were nothing but pain:
the surgeon’s cut, the chemo’s fever,
a landscape of loss drawn on my body.

But now?
You’re the measure of
How I refused to disappear.

Every mark is a line in my history…
I bled, but I didn’t end.
I ached, but I outlasted the pain.

People say wounds fade.
But you are not a wound anymore.
You are the receipt for my survival,
proof that when my body was under siege,
I never surrendered.

So I trace your lines now
with something like pride,
knowing that…
If this was the price of my life,
Then you are the gold
That was left in my hands.

By: Mutshidzi

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My name is Thandi Promise Mashaba, I am 31 years old, a phenomenal woman and the founder of Focus Mamelodi Community NPO—a certified life coach and life coach for kids. I am fearfully and wonderfully made – a truth. I didn’t always believe in myself.

Growing up, life was not easy. From an early age, I was bullied because of things I couldn’t change: the colour of my skin and the depth of my voice. I was constantly mocked, ridiculed and made to feel like I didn’t belong. The bullying started in primary school and followed me into high school. I was called names and physically attacked. All this made me shrink inside. I struggled with my confidence. I constantly felt the need to defend myself or explain who I was. And because sometimes I fought back physically, I was often misunderstood and labelled as aggressive when in truth I was just trying to survive.

But everything began to change when I received salvation. That was my turning point. Through faith, I started doing inner work to heal my wounded inner child. I began to look at myself through a different lens- through the eyes of love, grace and peace.

I began to affirm myself with words like ‘I’m fearfully and wonderfully made’, knowing that I am not a mistake and that I have a purpose and a destiny to fulfill on this earth. Slowly, I started to believe it. I found my healing. I found my freedom. And with that healing came forgiveness- not just for me but for the people who hurt me, also for the parts of myself that I had rejected.

It was from this place of transformation that Focus Mamelodi Community NPO was born. I knew my story wasn’t just for me. I understood that through god’s grace, I could also help others see themselves beyond the limitations placed on them by society, bullies, or even their own insecurities.

Focus Mamelodi Community NPO became my way of mentoring and counseling teenagers and youth in my community, of telling them that no pain lasts forever, and that their identity is not defined by others but by the one who created them. Today, I embrace every part of who I am. I will never bleach my skin. I will never hide my voice. I no longer seek to fit in. I was born to stand out.

Message to the community:
To anyone going through bullying or struggling with self-acceptance, I want you to know this:
Do not change who you are for anyone
Do not silence your truth to make others comfortable, you are enough

Yes, the pain is real, but so is your power. When you forgive, you set yourself free. When
you speak life over yourself, you begin to rise. And when you believe in your worth, the
world cannot ignore your light.
Beauty isn’t defined by society or filtered by the world. True beauty is how you feel about
yourself- boldly, deeply, and unapologetically.

You can find me on these platforms
Email: thand.mashaba@gmail.com
Facebook: Thandi Thandy Thandie

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I am Joyce Mojapelo, 33 years old, and my life’s journey has been shaped by both deep loss and incredible restoration. I grew up in a warm, loving home with both my parents. My father was gentle and kind; my mother was strict yet deeply caring, generous, and protective. Childhood was filled with laughter, sports, and ambition. I excelled in athletics and volleyball, even earning the opportunity to represent District 4. After Matric, my dream was to study journalism. Among my friends, I was the investigator, the one who dug up stories and kept everyone informed. But in 2008, my world turned upside down.

In November that year, I lost my father to a stroke. Just eight months later, in July 2009, my mother went to work one Saturday and never returned. She had shown no signs of illness. At just 17, I was forced to navigate the unreality of losing both parents in less than a year. I couldn’t grieve fully; I had to stay strong for my younger brother. My dreams felt buried alongside my mother, and fear took hold of me-fear of dreaming, of planning for the future, and of dying suddenly.

To make matters worse, rejection from relatives left me feeling unwanted and undeserving of a good life. Five months after my mother’s passing, my brother and I moved to Echo Youth Development Centre (A place of safety). Even before we arrived, God already begun sending help through Pastor Fortune Khubayi, who supported us when he could. At Echo, I experienced something I desperately needed: unconditional love. Even when I pushed people away, they remained patient and refused to give up on me. Strangers became vessels of God’s promise: “I will never leave you nor forsake you”.

During my time there, we often took part in outreach trips to underprivileged villages, such as Matlala in Limpopo. Those experiences planted a seed in my heart- a passion for bringing hope to the hopeless by sharing my story. I later realised that this was my mother’s influence; she often welcomed Zimbabwean women into our home, gave them food, and gave them clothes.

The loss of my parents triggered years of depression and anxiety. The fear of death consumed me so much that I avoided setting long-term goals. I honestly didn’t believe I’d live past 25. But when I did, I made a choice to be intentional about my healing. I sought therapy, committed to prayer, and took antidepressants when necessary. The journey was far from perfect; there were moments when I stopped treatment altogether. But over time, I embraced the process. Therapy helped me recognise my triggers, to unlearn destructive behaviors, and most  importantly, heal my inner child. God proved to be a God of restoration. He renewed my dreams, restored my confidence, and showed me that my pain could serve a greater purpose. Today, I am the Chairperson of Focus Mamelodi Community NPO, an organisation addressing social challenges. Life still has challenges, but my approach is different now. I know that healing is not a destination; it is a lifelong journey. The pain may have shaped me, but it no longer defines me.

On 23 August, Focus Mamelodi Community NPO will host an Anti-Abuse Campaign to educate the community about the consequences of abuse and the importance of complete healing. I hope that my story reminds others that no matter how dark the road feels, restoration is possible.

If there is one truth I have learned, it is this: You are not what happened to you. Your past may shape you, but it does not have to limit you. Healing is possible-and with God by your side, nothing is impossible.

Socials:

My TikTok account :@mmusi.elevate
Facebook: JJ. Elavate

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From the moment I could speak, my mother, a Sunday school teacher with a heart full of faith, taught me and all my siblings how to pray. It began with simple words of gratitude before meals. Then came morning prayers for guidance, which we prayed as sunlight crept through the curtains. At night, just before sleep takes over my body, I would press my hands together and tell God about my day.

As I grew a bit older, so did my prayers. Sunday school lessons turned the Lord’s Prayer into second nature, recited as easily as my ABCs. Prayer became routine, steady, like breathing.

But now?
Now, my prayers don’t come in neat, memorized lines. Some days, they’re raw.Unfiltered. A choked-out “Why me?” when the pain digs its claws in deep. Other days, when laughter comes easy and the weight lifts, my prayers spill over: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Lord.

Living with chronic pain is like living with a thief, one that steals moments without warning. One second, I’m fine… the next, pain shoots through my body like lightning, and the world shrinks to just me and the ache. But this journey has taught me something… Life is fragile. Borrowed time. And in that truth, I’ve learned to cherish the small things, the warmth of a cup of tea, a friend’s voice on the phone, a quiet morning when my body lets me breathe.

Prayer isn’t what it used to be. It’s no longer just reciting words I learned as a child. It’s alive. Messy. Real.

Sometimes, it’s a yell into the dark. Other times, it’s a heart-to-heart with God, tears rolling down my cheeks, some from joy, some from the kind of pain that makes you whisper, “How much longer… for how long do I have to suffer?” Some nights, when words fail, I sing through the hurt because worship doesn’t need perfect words.

In the quiet, I remember my mother’s voice guiding those first prayers. I wonder if she knew she was planting seeds of hope that would hold me up on days when standing felt impossible. Her faith still lights my path, even when I can’t see the way forward.

These days, my prayer is simple… God, May Your Will Be Done – not mine. Whether that means a moment’s relief or strength to endure, I’m learning to trust Him with it. To center myself in Him, even when the storm rages.

Because prayer isn’t about having the right words. It’s showing up with your broken pieces and saying, “Here I am. Again.” It’s knowing you’re heard, even when the only thing you can offer is silence.

And that? That’s enough. A promise that keeps me going, a light that never goes out.

By: Mutshidzi

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But love, I am so tired.
The betrayal sits inside me
like an elephant on my chest.
Every fight drags it deeper
not just the infidelity, the lies,
But the why.
Why her? Why them?
Was it my body? My brokenness?
Was I not enough, or was she the dream
You couldn’t resist?
I see her face sometimes,
A ghost in my mirror.
She’s beautiful.
And I am here,
stitching my worth back together
with hands that keep shaking.

I forgave you.
But forgiveness isn’t forgetting.
It’s learning to breathe
around the knife still lodged in my ribs.
Some days, I wield it against you…
hurl accusations like stones,
Watch you crumble.
Then guilt swallows me whole.
I hate who I’ve become:
a woman who measures your pain
to see if it matches mine.
That isn’t love.
That’s a war neither of us wins.

But I don’t want war.
I want us.
The way we were.
The way we could be.
I want to believe
In the man who held me through storms,
Who called me his future
long before rings made it official.
I want to trust
that the vows we whispered in the dark
are stronger than the wounds.
Because despite it all,
I still choose you.

Every morning,
every battle,
every stumble towards grace.

So here’s my truth, love:
I am broken.
But I am yours.
And if you’ll still have me…
If you’ll fight beside me
to rebuild what the desert storms
tried to steal…
Then take my hand.
Not as penance,
not as surrender,
But as a promise:
We are one.
Even when it hurts.
Even when we forget how
Seven years have passed.
Then ten.
Let the next seventy be softer.
Let them be ours.

Yours, always

Anonymous

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Akira was a young girl who grew up in a poor neighborhood. Her childhood was marked by violence, abuse, and neglect. Her parents were addicted to drugs, often engaging in violent fights.

Akira recalled the sound of her parents’ screams, the smell of smoke and alcohol, and the overwhelming feeling of being alone and scared. She often went hungry and had to fend for herself from an early age.

Despite the chaos and uncertainty of her childhood, Akira was bright and curious. She loved to learn and excelled in school, but her past continued to haunt her.

She struggled with anxiety and depression, feeling as though she was living in a nightmare. Frequently, she woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and trembling, as memories of her  childhood flooded her mind.

Determined to escape her past, Akira worked hard. She achieved good grades and won a scholarship to a prestigious university. However, even with her dedication, her family struggled to pay her school fees.

There were times when she had to skip school because she couldn’t afford the fees, which left her feeling sad and frustrated. But she refused to give up.

Akira’s determination ultimately paid off. She was nominated for a full scholarship to a prestigious university. Unfortunately, not everyone welcomed her success.

Some people in the community were envious and did not believe she deserved the scholarship. They began spreading rumors to discredit her, even approaching the scholarship committee in an attempt to have her award revoked. However, Akira did not let their negativity bring her
down.

She focused on her studies and her personal growth, demonstrating to the committee that she was indeed worthy of the scholarship. In the end, the committee saw through the rumors and jealousy and awarded Akira the full scholarship.  She was overjoyed.

Despite this achievement, Akira’s past continued to affect her, leading to anxiety and depression. One day, she decided it was time to confront her fears and sought help from a therapist. The therapist guided her in working through her problems.

Additionally, Akira began practicing mindfulness, learning to focus on the present moment, which helped her feel calmer and more peaceful.

As she faced her fears, Akira started to heal. She grew stronger and more confident, realizing that her past did not define her.

Although Akira’s journey was not easy, she stayed committed to facing her fears and seeking help. Over time, her life began to change for the better. She made new friends and formed deeper connections with her family, ultimately feeling happier and more fulfilled.

By Grace Banda

Grace Banda (@grabanda21) • Instagram photos and videos

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